


Just a little won't hurt...

by oniuno



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alcohol, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Multi, Polyamory, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-06
Updated: 2015-08-24
Packaged: 2018-04-08 00:06:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4283124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oniuno/pseuds/oniuno
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>FrUkUs is celebrating their one year anniversary...Alfred, having only just turned 20, is still technically too young to drink...But Arthur and Francis can.</p>
<p>[[With thanks to Dannie for the prompt!]]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Uh?

The Frenchman tipped the bottle towards Arthur, pouring him half a glass, and doing the same for Alfred. He filled his own right to the brim, ending with a flourish before turning away from them.

Alfred blinked “…Uh?”

Francis smirked mischievously as he paced away, scooting the bottle into the recycling bin. Arthur scowled at him as he started washing up.

“ _How much_ was this…stuff?” Arthur sniffed, taking a reluctant swig. He grimaced as the mouthful went down. The deep, dark flavours of the wine made his tongue flatten against his palate. He preferred the taste of beer; much milder, and so much less less…complex. _And much cheaper._

“ _Zut alors…_ Does it matter?” Francis smiled, dunking his hand into the washing bowl as he began to scrub the plates. “We’re celebrating!” He grinned at the pair sitting down, splashing soapy suds on the wall.  Arthur grunted again in response. Sure, the Englishman wanted to celebrate…but he had hoped for a quiet night in, not having to entertain Prussia and Italy, slaving over the stove for hours and drinking wine that was a little too posh. At least Francis had offered to wash up…

Alfred coughed to himself. He continued frowning at the half-filled glass in front of him, the red liquid bloodlike and mysterious. A mistake on Francis’ part, surely he knew that he wasn’t old enough yet…?

He snapped out of his thoughts as he felt Francis at his side, suddenly. The Frenchman reached for the glass and pushed it towards Alfred’s hand. Arthur cocked an eyebrow, “What are you…?”

“ _I said, we’re celebrating_.” He chuckled. “Go on, Alfred. It won’t kill you, no?”

Alfred gulped, turning his head towards the one practically dangling over his shoulder. “You know I can’t!” He sniffed, “I barely just turned twent-“

“Bah! Who cares?” Francis barked. He almost knocked over the glass, and the expensive wine sloshed around in it’s glass prison. The Frenchman’s cheeks were rosy, and the more he drank, the thicker his accent was getting. He reached over and took a swig from his own glass, and his breath became hinted with an earthy alcoholic tinge. “It will make the night a lot more… _interesting, hm?”_

At first, Alfred, not picking up on the suggestive intonation straightaway, frowned, “Now Bonne…either way, you know that ain’t right...” France’s face turned into a sneer, and Alfred’s neck became tinged with red. “ _Oh…_ ” Francis began to chuckle, and Arthur’s eyes rolled.

Alfred leaned in closer to Francis, a mischievous smile on his face, and whispered, “Now, _you know_ the only way to make a night more interesting is to get Arthur to do _that_ – again…” He made a vague motion with his hand, and the two suddenly broke out in peals of laughter. Arthur's face turned as red as the wine.


	2. Just the sip

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long! D:

Arthur’s face twisted into a half-smirk, half frown. He eyed the glass on Alfred’s side of the table. “Mhmm. _Very funny_.” He took a sip of his own wine. Their raucous laughter was beginning to get on his nerves. And there was little else he could stand than his two lovers being in some sort of private joke at his expense. _Let’s turn the tables._

Suddenly, the glass of wine near Alfred shifted and tilted, pointing towards his face. The American straightened up, red-faced and recovering from snorting hard at another whisper from Francis. Arthur’s eyes shifted to Francis, and he chuckled drily. “Go on, Alfie. Seriously, just a little sip.” He giggled softly.

Alfred’s face slowly lowered into a frightened frown. “Whuh, what…?. He turned to Francis, who had stopped laughing with him, and now looked ready to laugh _at_ him, following from Arthur’s lead.

Alfred cocked an eyebrow, his hand snaking its way towards the bottom of the glass. “R-really? You want me to? But, I- I mean, guys-“

He was cut off by Arthur sniggering.

“Ah – Ah, it’s fine, dear. We shan’t force you,” Francis cooed. The gesture was genuine, but real or imagined, there was a glint in the Frenchman's eye.

Alfred licked his lips. Somehow between Arthur’s snickering eyes and Francis sympathetic pat on the back, the glass was calling to him. _Should I..?_ It went against what he stood for, for sure…but they _were_ celebrating…and he _was_ close to legal age…

Francis grabbed his own glass. For a moment, Alfred imagined his partner pushing it to his lips, going against his word and forcing him to take a sip. He backed away instinctively in his chair. But instead the Frenchman pushed the glass to his own, draining the maroon drink with a slightly sloppy gulp.

“Hmm…The taste is a little…eh...acquired, perhaps?” Francis drawled, smacking his lips as the drained glass left them. “You will learn to love it…just like old _grumpy gills_ learned to love…yours truly, hm?”

Arthur rolled his eyes, turning his concentration from the unread book he was eyeing up on the counter. “Oh, please, love. If you weren’t so cheap and efficient I’d’ve just hired a cleaner.” There was a spark of goodwill to his eyes, and sure enough to expensive alcohol was working it’s magic on the uptight Englishman too. Francis giggled, a shaky hand poised over his mouth.

“Mhmm…” Francis breathed, eyes drifting back over to Alfred. The hand on his shoulder tensed as he tried to steady himself. “You know, dear, being drunk, is - almost like being in love…”

Alfred blinked at him. The Frenchman’s face was coated with a pleasant smile. Different to the one he usually wore, which could become strained if he was tired (though he tried not let it show). His eyelids fluttered as if he was in a dream, and he swayed a little on his feet when not anchored onto Alfred. The more he watched him, the more his curiosity grew.

“… _Nonsense, being drunk is far more enjoyable, and you can…”_

Arthur’s rebut melted away as Alfred focused on the wine in front of him. The two male voices were indistinct as he reached for it, heart picking up speed a little.

“… _Ha-ha. But then, who would you have to…?...and besides, you whine when the bed is-”_

Clenching his hand tightly around the stem, Alfred made up his mind. Before the two could notice, he raised it unprofessionally to his mouth, swallowing a good ¾ of the crimson fluid in one brave gulp.


	3. Just wine.

Alfred’s throat tightened as the liquid when down, and he clutched a hand to it, groaning a mournful _gurgh_ at the taste. He gave a violent shudder, and the other hand dramatically dropped the glass back onto the table without even thinking. The remaining red liquid sloshed out of the overturned glass, pooling at the edge of the table and threatening to spill onto the carpet. A sliver scar ran up the side of the glass where it had landed on the wood with a _clunk_.  

Arthur’s head turned to face him a second before Francis, his ears picking up the sound of expensive glass breaking instantaneously. He blinked at Alfred, whose face had turned red as his sense of embarrassment caught up with him, his lips curled downwards and eyes widening. Francis’ smile merely grew wider, a smatter of laughter rising in his throat. “ _Oh, darling-“_

“ _Don’t say it! Y-you made me do it! You – you two – made me – drink…the…“_ Alfred suddenly yelled, getting up from the table shakingly and pointing at the two. He clasped a hand to his mouth and suddenly pelted out of the kitchen, exclaiming “ _Oh god –“_ as he fled from the two.

His partners sat there in stunned silence for a second or two, before bursting into laughter. Francis’ drunken hoots echoed through the house, filtering through to the living room where Alfred was sitting, head clutched in his hands guiltily. Arthur chuckled in amusement too, before tutting and standing up abruptly, almost knocking Francis over in the process. He tried to push past him, but Francis suddenly clasped his hands in his own, smiling (again, drunkenly). “ _Hmm, hmm…where are you going?”_ Francis teased. He shifted his weight when Arthur tried to push past him again, and the two twirled. Arthur’s thick brows were drawn into an angry frown as Francis chuckled, forcing him to be part of some kind of angry ballroom dance. “You know, this is _your fault_.”

“No – this was _your idea_ -“Arthur growled. He glowered at Francis, eyeing the partially broken glass on the table as they span around again. The red liquid had dripped down, and was beginning to seep into the carpet. His eyes widened urgently. “ _Your idea. You – go – and sort it.”_ He insisted, taking all of his strength to push back. Francis staggered a little on his feet, finally letting go of his partner to stop himself from sliding to the floor. He grabbed onto the worktop, still chuckling in amusement as he watched Arthur practically lunge for a towel from the cupboard. Eventually Francis began to totter out.

“ _You’ll owe me one later~”_ He trilled, humming to himself, leaving Arthur alone to run over to the spillage.

Arthur daubed at the floor, growling to himself. _Already bled into the carpet. Fantastic._ The maroon liquid spread across the grey carpet like a deep bloodstain, and Arthur swayed on his knees, the alcohol beginning to go to his head as he tried to fix the mess. _God, those two….like children._

Ten minutes later, he heard faint laughter coming from the living room, undoubtedly Francis trying to comfort his lover. _I don’t get it._ Arthur frowned, hearing Alfie’s quiet, sad murmurs moments later. _It’s just wine, what’s the big deal…?_ He lifted up the towel after intently rubbing it against the carpet. He smiled faintly, rising to his feet and tiredly plopping the towel in the sink. _Yeah…just wine._


	4. Drunk in Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluff/implied smut (?) incoming! Also, sorry for the slow updates!

Alfred’s heart was racing, he felt sick. The earthy taste still stung his mouth, dirty and bitter like his guilt. He chewed on a lip, trying to convince himself that it wasn’t as bad as he thought. _God..this is illegal! I’m getting drunk and I’m only 20 years old!_ He scrunched his face up in disgust.

“ _Oh, Alfie~?”_

Alfred looked up, to see Francis staggering to the doorway. He slid against the doorframe, eyes lowered dreamily and cheeks still rosy and warm. He would’ve looked seductive, were it not for the mocking smile still spread across his jaw. Alfred’s head lowered again, looking as though he was biting back a sob.

“No, nonono-“ Francis stammered, sliding over to his lover with open arms. He crashed into Alfred, landing half on the couch and half on Alfred’s lap. “ _No, my dear, don’t get upset~”_ His voice was still wobbly, but the mocking tone quickly left and was replaced with a warm, comforting one. He slouched on Alfred, who was still trying to hide his face from the other. “ _Shh,”_ He whispered, petting the blond hair softly. “Whuh- what’s wrong little one?” Francis grunted, sounding confused.

Alfred sighed heavily, face still crinkled. “Y-you…you two…you were _laughing_ at _me._ ” He groaned, hands still clasped around his face.

Francis took an exaggerated, offended gasp. “ _No_ …Alfie…we were not laughing at you-u,” he mumbled. He leaned forward, nuzzling the other close to his ear. “Nonono, dear, don’t – don’t think we were laughing at you,” His sentence was punctuated with a hiccup, and he broke into a round of deep, gleeful chuckles. He rested his chin on Alfie’s shoulder as the other gave a discontented sigh.

“ _You were, Francis…_ ” He said, not resisting as he felt the other’s hand stretch across his waist. “You know I hate it when you and Arthur gang up on me…”

Francis’ chuckling did not cease. “Mmh. Yeah, we were, then. It’s funny, how much you worry…about the drinking. But it was just a bit of fun…” His expression softened, and he peered into Alfred’s eyes. “W-we didn’t mean to make you upset, love. It is – it is - _our anniversary_ , after all…” He continued to warble, his tone becoming harder and harder to understand.

Alfred still didn’t _feel_ awfully convinced. His guilty expression merely sank into one of sadness, and he let out a sigh again. He fought off Francis’ gaze for as long as he could, staring at the floor, before he felt the other’s hand on his chin, gently turning his head towards him. Francis smiled sweetly back at him.

Alfie felt a flush to his face, and a warm sensation travel up his spine. He blinked at Francis, whom slowly ducked in for a kiss. Arms draped over Alfie’s shoulder as their lips met with little resistance. As they briefly drew apart, Francis smirked, tenderly stroking the nape of Alfie’s neck. “Per-aps we can have a different kind of _fun_ , hm? Will that cheer you up, Alfie?”

The tingling sensation from his spine traveled up his face and straight to his forehead, dulling his vision slightly and making him kind of dizzy. The sound of Arthur shifting around in the kitchen faded away. And despite being usually immune to such innuendos, Alfred’s lips, still warm, drew up into a tentative smile.  Before he could think, he leaned more towards Francis, a quiet snigger erupting from his mouth. “H-here? On the couch…?” His voice wobbled slightly as he spoke, and the sound of it made him break into more laughing. Just as Francis had done earlier, he anchored himself against the other man, lolling against him on the couch. His amused eyes were draped in dreamy eyelids.

Francis almost rolled his eyes. _Bless him. The wine is going straight to his head._ He shifted sidewards, smirking and spreading himself underneath Alfie. “Mhmm, so long as we…don’t make a mess…I’m sure _old grumpy gills_ won’t want to clean up after _you_ …twice in one night…” He breathed. He let out a sigh of surprise as an eager Alfred leaned over him, pressing their lips together once again, their faces lost in a tangled mess of blond hair.


End file.
